


you call me when you're bored (and you're playing with yourself)

by shinelikemillions91



Category: One Direction (Band), The 1975 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Past Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 12:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinelikemillions91/pseuds/shinelikemillions91
Summary: Harry gets a notification from Matty. Phone sex ensues.Based off this - https://www.coupdemainmagazine.com/harry-styles/13296





	you call me when you're bored (and you're playing with yourself)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever post here, please be kind! :)

Harry yawned as he undressed, throwing his clothes on the floor which was definitely not like him, but that’s how _exhausted_ he felt. He thought vaguely that not many twenty-three-year-old pop stars found themselves in bed by 10pm, but here he was, teeth brushed and ready to crawl into bed and sleep for a whole year. To Harry’s credit, 2017 had been insane, a whirlwind of Dunkirk press, premieres, and of course his album release, as much as he valued his privacy, part of him loved being back in the public eye, he thrived on keeping busy and creating. Harry had just come back from drinks with Nick after his Radio 1 Live Lounge performance which he’d been uncharacteristically nervous for, yet he didn’t think he’d ever get over performing The Chain and couldn’t wait to perform it in San Francisco next week.

 

As Harry crawled under the sheets, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and idly flicked through Twitter. He knew that his Live Lounge performances and interviews would be up by now, and so what if he was a little bit narcissistic and wanted people to like his stuff. Harry found that he definitely felt the pressure a lot more as a solo artist, there was no hiding or blending into the background if he was having a bad day, unlike the One Direction days, he couldn’t let Liam or Louis take the reins anymore. As predicted, he had thousands of notifications, mostly positive, the odd rude asshole telling him to ‘stay in his lane’ which honestly just made Harry roll his eyes, as if music genres mean anything in 2017.

 

His eyes started to droop, and he’s just about to put his phone down when one notification in particular catches his eye, makes his stomach twist up in knots and his heart rate accelerate alarmingly.

 

_@Truman_Black .You. Are. Peng. @Harry_Styles_

 

‘Fuck,’ Harry mutters under his breath before huffing out a breath and grinning despite himself.

 

He pulls up his contacts and scrolls to find Matty’s number, he’s not even sure if Matty uses this number anymore as it’s been a long time since he last messaged or called him, he types out a quick, ‘Think I’m peng do you? X’ before he can second guess himself and throws his phone face down on the bed.

 

He’s pretty sure if he’d received this notification about four years ago, he would have died on the spot, as nineteen year old Harry had possessed absolutely no subtlety in regards to his feelings towards Matty fucking Healy.

 

‘But he’s so _pretty,_ ’ Harry would sigh as he watched the ‘Chocolate’ music video on repeat until Zayn or Louis would slap him upside the head and groan ‘WE KNOW,’ in unison. His bandmates frustration at his infatuation with Matty only increased when Matty effectively stood him up that time, and even though Matty texted him an apology, it had still stung and he had definitely sulked for a couple of weeks which Louis, Zayn, Niall and even Liam (usually the peacemaker) had teased him for relentlessly. This teasing continued of course after the mortifying call or delete incident in which Matty under duress begged Harry for £5000 on the phone, and to the amusement of everyone minus Harry, he didn’t think twice about potentially giving someone he hardly knew £5000 of his own money, simply because Matty was ridiculously fucking pretty, and Harry had a stupid crush.

 

The last time any of the boys had mentioned what they had eventually coined as ‘the Matty situation’ was back in 2015, Harry woke up one morning to a drunk text from Niall simply reading ‘ _mate have u seen the 1975 love me music video????’_ followed by about thirty crying laughing emojis. Harry had not. He pulled up YouTube on his phone and searched the video, almost nervous about what he might find. What he had categorically NOT expected was a half-naked Matty with his messy curls wearing nothing but leather trousers, blue eyeshadow and heels strutting around and licking a fucking cardboard cut out of his younger self. He’d had his hand down his boxers before he knew what he was doing, and though this was obviously not the first time he’d touched himself imagining Matty’s pale fingers wrapped around his cock, but it was the first time that he thought maybe, just maybe, Matty found him attractive too.

 

Harry is snapped out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating loudly on his bed, his eyes wide Harry grabs the phone and sees that Matty is actually calling him. What the fuck? He answers quickly before he can second guess himself and puts Matty on speaker, his hands shaking a little too much to hold the phone steady to his ear.

 

‘Um, hey?’ Harry says into the thrumming silence of his bedroom, realising that he can hear Matty’s breathing coming through his phone.

 

‘Hello, popstar,’ Matty says quietly, though Harry is sure he can hear a smirk in his voice.

 

‘Hey,’ Harry replies again, stupidly. _Why am I like this?_ He thinks to himself.

 

‘It was George that sent that tweet…’

 

Harry feels his heart sink a little bit but tries to laugh it off.

 

‘It’s okay, mate, I thought it must have been a joke!’ _You are a fucking awful liar, Styles._

 

‘No you don’t,’ Matty snorts, and Harry rolls his eyes, only Matty Healy could make being a prick so irritatingly charming.

 

‘And actually, you didn’t let me finish, I was going to say that George sent that tweet for me because I was too chicken shit to send it myself, he literally grabbed my phone from my hands you see.’

 

This makes Harry’s heart leap in his chest, and his cock twitch in his pants.

 

‘Because honestly, Styles, what was up with your voice in that interview? You sound like you’ve been sucking a thousand cocks during this hiatus of yours.’ Matty continues, and his voice sounds like it’s dropped a few octaves.

 

Harry swallows thickly because Matty Healy is talking to him about sucking cocks, and he feels this conversation may be going in a different direction now, pun not fucking intended.

 

‘I, uh… It’s just my… it’s just my voice,’ Harry croaks out, his hand moving south to press against his swelling cock in his boxers.

 

‘I know what your voice sounds like,’ Matty says quietly before continuing, ‘it’s like fucking treacle… no wonder you have girls falling at your feet all the time, mate.’

 

‘Not just the girls, apparently,’ Harry grins, lying back on the bed with his legs dangling over the edge, the phone placed next to his head on the bed.

 

‘Oh, I dunno… I get told I can be pretty girly,’ Matty retorts, and Harry swallows once more but says nothing because the image of Matty in leather and eyeshadow springs to his mind, he lets out an involuntary groan as he remembers how much he wanted to lick Matty’s WE ARE KINGS tattoo on his hip, his mouth almost watering at the thought.

 

‘Do you like that then?’ Matty almost sighs in Harry’s ear. ‘The idea of me dressed up fucking pretty like a girl?’

 

‘Yeah… ’ Harry exhales, trying to regulate his breathing. How the fuck has he gone from exhausted to the level of passing out to horny beyond words and having almost phone sex with Matty Healy?

 

‘You have no idea how many times I watched your Love Me music video,’ Harry gets out, his fingers sliding below the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down and scratching a little at the skin there, making his hips lift off the bed a little.

 

‘I thought you’d like that one,’ Matty huffs a laugh but then Harry’s certain he hears the sound of a zip and Harry’s hand grips his cock hard enough to almost hurt.

 

‘What are you doing?’ Harry goads, for he so desperately wants to hear those words coming from Matty’s mouth.

 

‘Well, I’ve got my hand wrapped around my dick, and I’m imagining your pretty lips wrapped around me… I want to make you sound like you did in that interview today…’ the last word ending on a bit of a whine that shoots straight through Harry’s body and he moans openly this time because how could he fucking not after hearing that?

 

‘Fuck,’ Harry gasps as he starts to stroke himself, his own heartbeat in his ears, as well as Matty’s slightly laboured breathing.

 

‘Yeah, fuck… I bet you’re so fucking good at sucking dick, with your pretty mouth and your fucking pretty eyes looking up at me fuck,’ Matty is babbling now and Harry’s hand speeds up and he decides this is hands down the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, like every dirty teenage fantasy rolled into one.

 

‘It’s been known,’ Harry grunts, deciding that he needs Matty to keep talking, so he’ll do anything to make that happen. ‘I used to suck Louis off a lot, he loved fucking my throat, loved how I could just take it and take it.’

 

‘Holy fuck,’ Matty moans, and Harry can imagine how he looks, dark curls falling over his face, his head thrown back with a flush on his chest, his cock hard and leaking all over his fist.

 

Harry feels the pressure building up in his lower belly and he runs a sweaty palm through his hair as he pumps his cock and listens to Matty’s moans and gasps.

 

‘I always thought you were fucking beautiful,’ Harry almost groans, trying his best to make his voice low and gravelly, since he now knows how much Matty loves that.

 

As it turns out that’s what tips Matty over the edge and hears a broken ‘Fuck fuck, Harry!’ escape Matty’s lips and Harry knows he’s coming, and his mouth almost waters at how much he wants to taste. This alone tips Harry over the edge and he spills all over his fist and chest, covering his butterfly tattoo, his breath coming out in bursts, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

 

Harry lays there and listens to Matty’s breathing getting back to normal and he suddenly finds himself giggling, covering his face with his clean hand.

 

‘What’s funny?’ Matty asks, his voice sounding a little weak and strung out, this only makes Harry laugh harder.

 

‘I’ve… fuck, I’ve been thinking about this shit for like five years!’

 

‘You have?’ Matty asks, and there’s genuine surprise in his voice which makes Harry stop.

 

‘Yeah… fuck I thought you definitely knew, I thought everyone knew… I’ve been a little bit obsessed with you since like… the Chocolate video.’

 

Matty barks out a laugh, ‘Well, I’ve been obsessed with you since the Best Song Ever music video, so I guess we’re as bad as each other.’

 

Harry grins and feels a flush rising to his cheeks.

 

‘I guess so.’

 

They’re silent for a minute before Harry plucks up the courage. ‘I’m actually in London for the next week if you’re… around? Before I go on tour.’

 

‘I should be… why? Do you want to get your mouth on my cock that bad, Styles?’

 

‘So what if I do?’

 

Matty groans again then laughs. ‘Yeah, I think we should be able to manage something… you do still owe me that five grand too, in case you’d forgotten?’

 

‘Prick.’ Harry grins. ‘I’ll bring the five grand if you promise not to stand me up again.’

 

‘Deal.’

 

 

 

 


End file.
